


Just Drop the 'B' Already

by SatyrSyd37



Series: Wingman Watari Universe [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Memes, Suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7928344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SatyrSyd37/pseuds/SatyrSyd37
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Issei needed a date to his sister’s engagement party, so he asked Hanamaki. As a friend. He thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Drop the 'B' Already

**Author's Note:**

> this is matsukawa's POV of the event we did not see in Wingman Watari. can be read as a stand alone work

Issei adjusts his bowtie. It fits a little too snug against his neck to be comfortable, and he almost regrets wearing it. Almost. Because he looks rather dashing in a bowtie, and he isn’t going to deprive his family - or his date - of this beautiful view.

Yes, his date: Hanamaki. Issei can’t stop thinking about him. It’s becoming incessantly annoying, too, like a never ending loop of nyan cat. It isn’t usually a cause for concern when Issei thinks about Hanamaki - he  _ is _ his best friend, after all. Best friends think about each other all the time, right? However, he usually thinks about Hanamaki in the ‘best friend’ way, not the ‘date’ way.

The moment that damn Watari had suggested he take Hanamaki as his date to his sister’s engagement party, it hit him like a truck. No - like ten trucks, filled with cement and a giant sign with flashing lights reading: “You’re gay! For your best friend! Damn son good luck!”

He wonders how he hadn’t realized it before.

It hadn’t been a problem to ask Hanamaki to be his date. They do everything together, usually, because at least when Makki is with him, there’s someone to laugh at his terrible puns and meme references. Just having Makki by his side makes any experience better. 

(Again: how didn’t he realize this earlier?)

But the important part is that Makki agreed to come and now Issei doesn’t have to suffer through this fancy dinner party on his own. 

Glancing one more time in the mirror, Issei forms finger guns and winks. The bowtie brings the rest of his outfit together nicely, if he says so himself.

He makes his way downstairs, loops the keys around his finger and locks the door behind him. The rest of his family is already at the restaurant. His parents and sister had left two hours before, for “last minute preparations,” thankfully sparing Issei from chaos of pre-party planning. 

The trek to Makki’s house leaves him bitter. They live close enough that it’s manageable to walk there, but far enough that the walk is irritatingly long. To add to that, his shoes aren’t broken in yet and they squeak. With every step. 

By the time he’s ready to cut a bitch (the bitch is his shoes. He would gladly take a knife to them right now. Or perhaps a chainsaw), he’s arrived at Makki’s doorstep. 

Normally, since Issei came over so often, he just walked in. The Hanamakis love him - no surprise there - so it was never a big deal. But today...it didn’t feel right. For Issei just to walk in right now would be like peeking at the bride before the wedding. 

He cringes inwardly.  _ Dramatic, much? God, what is wrong with me? _

After a moment of debating, Issei knocks on the door, as weird as it feels. 

When Makki opens the door, Issei immediately brightens up. Makki wears a charcoal grey suit that fits his frame nicely, a bright green tie that looks absolutely awful, and an incredulous smirk. 

“You know you could have just come in, right?” 

“What kind of man do you take me for? I would never dare dishonor my date in such a disrespectful fashion.” 

Makki cracks a smile. “In that case, I am honored. Shall we go?” He offers his hand to Issei, and for some reason the gesture makes his heart jump.

He tries to hide his nervous gulp, and takes Makki’s hand in his. 

“So, where’s our ride?” Makki asks.

“No carriage pulled by white horses for us, I’m afraid,” Issei says. “We’re walking.”

Makki drops his hand like it’s a furry paw. “You fucking with me?”

Issei sighs. “Not in the slightest. Though that does sound like an enticing proposal.”

Issei claps his hand over his mouth. _ Holy shit. I just said that. _ He glances at Makki out of the corner of his eye, but his friend is just giggling hysterically.

“Bro, maybe wait a little longer into our date before…?” Makki trails off, making a lewd gesture with his hands. 

Issei laughs nervously. That could have gone over a lot worse. Makki seems to think it was a joke. At least, he  _ thinks _ Makki thinks it was a joke and was therefore joking back at him.  _ That was a joke, right? _ “W-well, it was your suggestion. Bro.”

“Okay. That sounds fake, but…”

“Like I’d ever get it on with someone in that horrible tie.”

“It’s _pepe_ _green_ ,” Makki announces defensively. Indeed it is that offense shade of green that clashes wonderfully with Makki’s hair. And Issei loves it.

“Why am I not surprised that you own this.”

“Because we’re bros, Matsun, and nobody bros me like you do.”

“Bro.”

“Don’t lie to yourself. You love it, don’t you?”

Makki tilts his head back to look at him, a genuine smile on his face. A sudden breeze ruffles his hair and wow, Makki looks really good in this lighting, Issei realizes. The setting sun outlines his hair, and his real smile is even cuter than his smirk, and the damn tie that shouldn’t look good on anyone somehow makes him even more attractive - 

“You totally love it,” Makki says when Issei doesn’t respond after a moment.

_ Get your head in the game, Wildcat _ , Issei commands himself. He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah, I mean, you wish.”

They walk to the restaurant in silence. Relative silence, because Issei’s shoes won’t shut the fuck up. And Makki keeps giggling, which makes Issei giggle, too.

  
  


Dinner is mostly uneventful. It goes off without a hitch, much to his parents’ relief. He only greets people for the first half hour, saying hello to various aunts and uncles and cousins and other more obscure relatives of both the bride and groom. Issei’s just glad that his sister is having a good time. Though he’s also grateful that Makki’s here to entertain him, because he would have died of boredom without him.

The end up critiquing the guests most of the night.

“That dress really isn’t right for the occasion, is it?”

“Definitely outdated, too.”

“That suit with that tie?”

“I appreciate what he’s going for, but it’s just not working for him.”

“You see that dress? I’d wear that dress. I’m going to steal it from her.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Did you see their shoes? I want their shoes.”

“Holy shit. I didn’t think anyone’s hair could get worse than that beehive lady, but look who just walked in.”

“I didn’t think girls could pull off a suit. I’ve been proven wrong.”

“She looks better in a suit than I do.”

“That’s not saying much, Makki.”

“You wound me, Matsun.”

“Nah, I’m just kidding, bro. You wear a suit extremely well.” Issei says it as sarcastically as he can, to ensure that Makki doesn’t take it the wrong way.

Makki smirks at him, and gives him a once over. “You look pretty fine yourself,” he replies. There isn’t a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Issei can’t help but blush. He silently gives his thanks to the restaurant's shitty lighting for hiding his embarrassment.

“Hey, Matsun,” Makki asks after a moment. 

“Yeah?”

He leans back in his booth, turning his body toward Issei but not meeting his eyes. “I know that I’m here as your date, but I am here as your ‘date,’ or your date?”

_ Oh dear. _

“Bro, that doesn’t make any sense.” 

It makes perfect sense.

Makki waves his hands in a vague gesture. “You know...like a placeholder date, or a  _ date _ date.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Issei knows exactly what he means.

Hanamaki chews on his lip, clearly frustrated with Issei’s lack of compliance. 

_ Cute _ , Issei thinks.

_ Fuck _ , he thinks subsequently.

Finally, Makki meets his eyes. And Issei knows he can’t dodge the subject any longer. It was time to get everything out on the table. 

His gaze hesitant, yet unwavering, Makki says, “Y’know, like, we’re bros. But, is our bromance...more of a romance?”

If his ears weren’t burning and Hanamaki didn’t look so damn cute in that awful tie with those puppy dog eyes, he would have sighed in anguish at Hanamaki’s use of ‘bromance.’ As it is, Issei gulps and forced the words out of his mouth. “That’s the direction I hope we’re going in…”

He looks down at his hands. Talking to Makki is normally so easy, so natural, but now he’s awkward and blushing and it is ruining his aesthetic. 

Makki nudges his side. Issei forces himself to look up and meet Makki’s eyes. They’re shining in delight and suddenly he understands all those elaborate metaphors pre-teen girls write about a guy’s eyes. 

Makki says, “I’d like that a lot. If we dropped the ‘b’ in bromance.”

Issei rolls his eyes (even though he can’t stop grinning.) “Would you stop it with the ‘bromance.’”

Makki reaches under the table and grips Issei’s hand. It’s big and sweaty and Makki is blushing a little bit, but that makes it even better. “Yeah, I think we should drop it entirely.”

  
  


They’d barely established their new relationship status (This is a relationship now, right? They’re boyfriends? Right?) when Makki says, “Hey, Matsun. Let’s go outside. Fresh air and shit.”

“The fresh air sounds nice, but I don’t know about the shit…”

Makki tugs his hand. “I guess you’ll just have to suffer then. Because I really want to go outside.”

“What are you, a dog?”

“Such outside, much air, so fresh.”

“Your lameness continually astounds me.”

But Issei acquiesces and lets Makki drag him through the restaurant and out onto the patio. There are a couple of empty tables surrounding a small stage, where the band packs up for the night. A couple of heat lamps are scattered between the tables, creating a dim light source just strong enough to outline the chairs and tables with an orange glow. The air is dense with smoke and heat, but a cool breeze cut through to pinch at their bare cheeks. The only sounds are the roar of nightly traffic, the buzz of the crowd inside the restaurant, and the clacking of instruments as the band puts their equipment away. 

Makki leads him around the maze of chairs and tables and lamps packed too tightly together, right to the edge of the patio. They’re completely out in the open, but no one in the restaurant can see them from this particular spot. Hidden in plain sight.

Makki grabs both his hands and Issei definitely does not swoon. He wonders if Makki was blushing just as much as he was.  _ This fucker better be. _

“Can I kiss you now?”

Issei grins. He’s been waiting to hear those words since...about five minutes ago, actually. “I don’t know, can you?”

“And you say  _ I’m _ the lame one.”

They both lean forward, their mouths closer and closer until Issei can feel Makki’s breath on his lips and - 

_ Squeeeaaaaaaaak _ .

They stop, their faces centimeters apart.

“I  _ hate _ these  _ fucking  _ shoes,” Issei says, with feeling.

Makki snorts. “Trust me, I hate them more.”

“Not possible.” 

Makki cups Issei’s cheek with his (still sweaty) palm and brings to faces together again, all the way this time. Their lips press together and their eyes flutter closed and even though his shoes squeak it doesn’t matter because Makki’s mouth is on his and he tastes exactly like the miso soup he just finished. 

Makki leans back, his hand still on Issei’s face. “You taste like steak.”

“Well you taste like miso soup.”

“You’re lucky. I obviously taste better.”

“No picking favorites yet - we still have to try dessert.” Issei sticks out his hips and wiggles his eyebrows.

Makki snorts. “Dude, I’m sorry, but there is no way your cum tastes better than miso soup.”

Issei licks his lips. “You never know until you try it.” Makki curls over in a fit of giggles.

He can’t believe he felt so awkward about this just a few minutes ago. This was Makki. This was  _ Takahiro _ . Issei always felt comfortable with his best friend. Er, boyfriend. Probably. It wasn’t as though things had to change between them. Except maybe the kissing part. And...other parts. That was a welcome change in Issei’s mind.

As soon as Makki’s giggles are spent, Issei pulls him in for another kiss. Because he can. And because that first kiss was nice and all, but he knows they can do better. They just need practice. Lots of practice.

This kiss is deeper, and longer, and  _ oh _ . Makki lips press hard against his before pulling away, then surging back again to suck on his lower lip and  _ where did he learn this? _ Makki’s hands drop from his face and land on his hips. Issei shivers at the sensation of Makki’s fingers running up his side. That feels nice - it feels  _ really _ nice, especially when he opens his mouth slightly and Makki immediately licks inside. Knees already weakening, Issei drops his hands low and Makki’s back, fingers swooping under his suit jacket and running along his lower back, pulling at the top of his pants. Makki buckles against him and he feels a bulge pressing against his thigh.

Issei can sympathize. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away from the kiss and says, “I think we should finish this somewhere more private.”

“Bathroom?”

“Bathroom.”

**Author's Note:**

> bet you can guess what happened next ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ 
> 
> hope you enjoyed! look out for yahaba's POV in the near(ish) future!
> 
> comments and kudos always appreciated! (pst also if you see any spelling/grammar errors let me know this is unbetaed and editted very hastily)
> 
> [tumblr](http://satyr-syd.tumblr.com)


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